


The Ecstasy of Falling

by RTusker



Category: Fall Guys, Fall Guys: Ultimate Knockout
Genre: BDSM, Masochism, Other, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26046277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RTusker/pseuds/RTusker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	The Ecstasy of Falling

You don't remember much from before their voice and their hands. That playful giggle and those soft hands.

"Aren't you a cute little guy" the voice whispers. 

Their fingers pluck you out of the aether and shape you into a body. You had a body before, but it was this fleshy, fragile thing. Nothing like this. Soft and curved and cute, with little black bean eyes. Stubby hands and stubby feet. Playful, adorable, and utterly useless. 

You discover just how useless as they poke you in the stomach, completely undeterred by your frantic limbs. You squeal involuntarily, your tongue stolen and replaced with an assortment of giggles. To your surprise, you find that there's no pain as they press upon you, pinning you to some unseen surface. You realize the gift they gave to you; there is no pain in this body, just raw sensation. 

It's wonderful.

And then, you feel the surface give way, and you. Begin. To fall. The great descent. And as you plummet into the abyss, all you can think of is that voice, those hands, that crown-shaped ring on the ring finger. 

Your goal is clear once you land among the other fallen guys, an obstacle-filled ascent awaiting you. You must return. You must get that crown.

\-----

Throughout it all, you remain unharmed. You are flung repeatedly off of ledges. You're beaten repeatedly by hammers and rotary fans and giant pieces of fruit. And when your fellow fallen guys aren't actively pushing you into danger, they grab you and tackle you until the entire lot of you are bouncing around the floor, trying to regain your footing before the window closes, before you're forced to fall again. But you remain unharmed.

You wish it did hurt, to be away from those hands, that voice. But instead, you are subjected to sensations at random. Clumsy hands slapping against your skin as you shove your way through a door. A gate slamming into your gut as you vault over it. The distinct and inexplicable tingle as your tail is ripped from your behind. It's scattered, unexpected, and nothing like that moment at the top of the mountain. 

Perhaps this was part of the test given by the voice and the hands, to suffer through lesser enticements, this false ambrosia. You can't even properly touch yourself, not with these stubby arms that stick all the way out.

God, you wish you could.

God, you wish you could come.

\----

You see the crown over the next hill. You don't remember how long it's been since the last time you've been this close. You see the rest of the fallen swarming behind you, plotting to keep you from your bless. You leap, hoping that you'll be just close enough.

Your hands touch metal. You've won. And like that, you're above it all again, seeing the grand folly of the fallen take place under you. Feeling their fingers cradling your toy-like body.

"Good job," you hear whispered above you, so close that you can feel their breath fall to your brow like velvet. And then it happens, so quickly that you don't realize what it was until it's already passed.

They kissed you. And you shudder as that kiss echoes to the core of your bean, as color leaks out of you in patterns, as a crown rises from where those lips touched. 

"Now fall," says those lips, "and find me again."


End file.
